


When the Sun Died

by LylaMackenzie



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Crying, Crying Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Sad Peter Parker, Spideypool - Freeform, Sweet Wade Wilson, Too Many Memories, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27395791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LylaMackenzie/pseuds/LylaMackenzie
Summary: Peter Parker is having a hard time after Tony Stark's death. Wade Wilson is there to help.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Spider-Man/Deadpool
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First, thanks for reading! This is my first fic in this fandom, of which I'm not super familiar, so forgive me if I'm not 100% accurate about any of this! No Deadpool thought boxes, sorry. Also, sorry this is so short; felt like writing something and this happened rather spur of the moment. (sorry it looks so smooshed together/ For some reason my computer isn't being cooperative. Either way, I'd love to hear your opinions!

The light faded from view as the sun disappeared below the horizon, giving way to the night, the pitch- black kind of dark that enveloped the entire city so that even the street lights seemed pathetic in their attempt to impede.  
Peter sat atop his building, feeling the wind whip at his suit, wishing for it to blow through his hair, tickle his face, but not daring to uncover it. He was perched right at the edge, watching his city without really paying attention. Which may have been the reason his Spidey sense didn’t alert him, or because it wasn’t a threat, when a voice came from behind him. “Heya, Webs, what’s hanging? Other than--” Wade Wilson chuckled at his own joke without finishing his thought, flopping down next to Peter and dangling his legs over the side, happily swinging them back and forth. He glanced at Peter, who hadn’t moved since Wade showed up, hadn’t spoken a word. What Wade didn’t know was Peter was trying to keep it together, trying not to match the world around him, let the darkness overwhelm what light was left, but it was getting harder and harder to keep it in, pretend things were normal, when in reality, nothing would ever be normal again.  
For a moment, Wade let it go, said nothing, just sat next to Peter and tried to take in the city. As late as it was, nearly morning by this point, there were still noises everywhere, still people milling about, like ants. The city never rested and most of the happenings came about during evening and early morning hours only to dissipate during the day; but for Peter, the bad things never left. They penetrated his dreams, never letting him rest properly, and infiltrated his every waking moment, especially when there was so much around to remind him.  
Peter sniffed and turned away from Wade, pressing his lips together and narrowing his eyes in the way you do to prevent the tears that will inevitably fall anyway. How Wade figured that out was a mystery. “Pete?” Wade whispered, his voice soft, trying not to break the code of giving away one’s identity. The taller man moved towards the shaken spider, reaching out a hand towards the smaller man’s leg. Peter jerked away suddenly, webbing bursting from his wrists, gracefully pulling him from the rooftop and carrying him through the streets. Wade sighed, resting his arms on his legs, wishing Peter would speak to him. They’d been friends way too long for the web-slinger to simply turn away. Wade knew something was up and quite possibly knew what that something was, he only had to get Peter to open up.

***  
Peter slid through the window easily enough and all but collapsed onto his bed, pulling the mask from his face. The walls of his room felt safe, things he’d had since he was young were there, things that meant much more now than they did then. He slid a hand under his pillow and retrieved the photo there, the one of him and Tony at Stark Tower, Tony’s arm slung around Peter’s shoulders, Peter smiling up at him adoringly. Peter looked at the photograph, its edges worn from Peter rubbing it incessantly, his anxiety bleeding into everything he touched nowadays. He held onto it with all the strength he had left, which wasn’t much at that point. “Tony-” He broke then, curling into himself, hugging both the mask and the photograph to his chest, the two things that had saved him over the past year. And now that one of those things was gone, would the other be worth having anymore?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the KUDOS!! Much love to you all! I'm still feeling this out as I go, and as I've said before, this is not a fandom I'm incredibly familiar with so please forgive any mistakes....happy reading!!

Peter awakened, still in his suit, and looked at his alarm clock. Half past ten. He sat up slowly, his face stiff and sore from last night’s crying episode. Though by now he should have been used to it, as it happened more often than not. That is, if the nightmares didn’t get him first. He shut his eyes, grateful his Aunt was already at work for the day. He didn't want to face anyone. He always felt awful after a night of sobbing into his pillow, and though he was sure May was aware of it, she never questioned him. He was an adult after all. 

Peter looked at the photograph still in his hand, the mask now twisted in his sheets, most likely the aftermath of a nightmare already forgotten. He ripped the mask from his sheet and threw it across the room, yelling as he did so, his anger one again coming to the surface. "Hey, now, no need to man- handle Spidey, that's my job after all." Peter shoved the photo back under his pillow in time to see Wade creeping in through the window, dressed in his finest, and by that it meant baggy sweats, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up enough to cover most of his face. Despite his bad-assery, Wade was always concerned about his appearance. 

"What do you want Wade?" Peter mumbled. It had been a long time since Wade, or Deadpool for that matter, sent his Spidey sense into a tailspin. In fact, it was quite the opposite; he often found himself startled by the Merc's presence. 

"Other than that sweet little ass of yours, Petey?" Peter rolled his eyes, but went to retrieve his mask. He knew he should change out of his suit, but after watching Wade's eyes follow him across the room, thought better of it. "Thought you might need a maid, Petey-pie, seeing as this place looks like my house." He walked to Peter's desk, shoving a few things off onto the floor, and perched himself on the edge.. Wade was always impressed by the neatness of Peter's living space, but lately Peter hadn't given much thought to the clothing strewn about the floor and piled on his desk, school papers scattered in various places, most half-finished. Wade even managed to pick up a half eaten bowl of cereal, the spoon stuck like glue in the rotting milk. "I might even have matching maid uniforms for the both of us. " Peter didn't even crack a smile, just sat back down on his bed, his head in his hands. "I'm too tired for your shit today, Wilson." He grumbled, his voice muffled by the mask pressed into his face. 

"You're too tired a lot, Petey." Wade said, this time with concern creeping into his voice. "I don't think-"

"I don't think it's really any of your business, Wade." Peter growled, turning to face Wade, tears glistening in his eyes, both from anger and the sadness that crept in out of nowhere. He looked back at his hands, the mask clenched tightly in one fist, the other hand was brought to his mouth, stifling a whimper. What the hell was happening to him? He couldn't even keep control of his emotions anymore. "You should go. "

"Aw, Webs, let me help you. You shouldn't be alone with this. You really need-" Wade tried walking towards the young superhero, wanting to offer comfort. But Peter just hung his head, a quiet sob leaving his body. "Please." Peter nearly begged, his chest tightening with the weight of everything, stopping Wade in his tracks. Peter sounded so broken, so wounded that Wade wanted nothing more than to heal every piece of him, though he knew that might never happen. Wade was so torn, wanting to give Peter his space, let him work through this, but a bigger part, a much bigger part, couldn’t let it go. 

“Baby Boy.” He took a few steps towards Peter, his hand outstretched, but Peter turned to face him again, his body shaking, face beginning to redden, the tears coming more fiercely now, unsightly snot leaking from his nose that he didn’t bother to wipe away. “Get the fuck out of here, Wade!” Wade closed his eyes, for a moment taken aback at what Peter had said to him, at him. In all the years Wade had known Peter he’d never heard that word come out of his mouth, let alone being directed at himself. He realized then, that whatever was going on with his friend, whatever terrible demon was setting up camp in his sweet boy’s mind wasn’t going away anytime soon. Wade made himself back up towards the window, away from his precious Spidey, the scene so incredibly heartbreaking before him, and yet, nothing he could do to fix it. He exited through the window, back into the daylight, leaving the darkness in that room, alone, the sound of muffled sobbing seeping out to him. And with his hood once again pulled up to hide his face, he felt that, maybe, the two of them weren’t all that different.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the KUDOS!! Sorry if this isn't the best; I'm just in a writing mood, but not producing exactly what I want...but hope you enjoy anyway :)

Peter must have fallen asleep again at some point,though God knows he could always use more of it. He laid on his bed, the covers now shoved off onto the floor, though he didn’t bother to pick them up, despite wanting nothing more than to crawl back under them and hide. Instead, he rolled out of bed, his body feeling like Rhino had taken a few good shots. He finally slipped out of his suit, setting it and his mask on top of a pile of clothing that was still sitting on his desk. He paused a moment, looking at a clear spot where Wade had tossed some of its contents to the floor, and his heart sank. Was he really that big of an asshole? He rubbed a hand over his face, realizing he most definitely was an asshole. 

The shower felt like heaven on his skin, as if he were washing away all of last night’s burdens and tears. He scrubbed until he felt raw, his skin a lovely shade of pink , and he could finally begin the day. Upon exiting the shower, he checked his phone, which sat on the vanity in the bathroom, Spidey Mix playing on his Spotify. Zero missed calls, no texts other than one from May wishing him a wonderful day. Peter sighed. Wade was usually blowing up his phone, multiple texts, calls, and memes bombarding his every waking moment (and much of the night as well). And now, nothing. Wade must really be hurt, he thought, drying off the rest of his body and grabbing a pair of black skinny jeans and a hoodie and getting dressed, before slipping into bright red converse. As he did so, his stomach growled. Of course he was hungry, his fast metabolism kept him burning calories at an alarming rate and by his own admittance, he certainly hadn’t been eating properly lately. He was thinking about what to eat when an idea struck him. Wade would definitely eat if Peter brought food (and an apology) along to his apartment. Grabbing his phone to order five pizzas, he set off to pick them up on the way to Wade’s. He was so happy with his idea he was nearly whistling, which was unusual for him these days.

Finally, he found himself standing at Wade’s apartment door, hand raised to knock, when anxiety settled in. WHat if Wade didn’t forgive him? What if he didn’t even let him into the apartment? Peter realized he would be devastated if that were the case. “Wade.” the Merc’s name left his lips as a whimper. “I’m sorry.” He felt his knees start to buckle, but the door opened just in time and Wade appeared, catching the pizzas in one hand, Peter in the other. “Come on in, baby boy.” Wade helped Peter into the apartment, setting the pizzas on the living room table, before he felt Peter’s arms wind around his middle. “Wade, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Wade embraced Peter, one arm snaking around the shorter man’s back, the other tangling in his hair. “Darling, it’s okay. I’m not mad. Sure, it hurt, but I know you’re working though something much bigger than I can help you with.” Peter pulled back, looking Wade in the eyes, his own bright blue ones searching for something there. Wade brought a hand to Peter’s cheek, wiping a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. The silence in that moment was deafening, the rest of the room fading into darkness. Peter leaned in, slightly on tip toe, and pressed his lips to Wade’s. Wade pulled back, surprised by Peter’s actions. “Pete--”  
“Oh, God. Oh, God, Wade, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have--”

“Peter, shut up.” A smile played on Wade’s lips as he leaned in, a hand on each side of Peter’s face, bringing him back. Their lips met once again, this time neither pulled away, gently playing into one another’s mouths, Wade’s hands tangled in Peter’s hair, Peter’s gripping Wade’s shirt, afraid he’d lose him if he let go. When they finally came up for air, Wade’s breath ghosting on Peter’s face, Peter still fingering Wade’s t-shirt, Wade spoke softly, his voice not much above a whisper. “If you wanted to kiss me, baby boy, all you had to do was ask.” He leaned in, placing another sweet, slow kiss on Peter’s mouth, the younger man’s lips swollen from all the contact. When he pulled back, Wade was smiling. “Or just web me to the wall and have your way with me.” He gave Peter’s lips another quick kiss, this time licking into the brunette’s mouth. Peter whimpered when Wade moved away again, his body leaning into Wade’s, chasing the kiss. “In a minute baby boy.” Wade smiled. “Why don’t we get some food in you; I can feel your stomach grumbling. "

Peter leaned his forehead on Wade's shoulder, Wade's hand coming to rest on the back of Peter's neck. "I'm sorry, Wade."

"I know you are. " Wade rubbed Peter's neck and Peter closed his eyes, the relief from everything making him even more tired; he wanted to curl into Wade, fall asleep in his arms. And yet, kissing him was also incredibly appealing. A moment later, Peter found himself being lifted off the ground, carried bridal-style to the couch. After setting Peter down, Wade placed a kiss on the top of Peter's head before retrieving the pizzas. The two of them snuggled up together on the couch, demolishing the majority of the pizzas rather quickly, cartoons playing quietly on the television. 

Wade was watching the screen, not really paying too much attention to what was playing, when he felt something hit his thigh. Glancing down, he saw Peter's hand resting on his leg, a piece of pizza dangling from his fingers. Wade chuckled, slipping the remaining slice from Peter's hand and grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over Peter. He then rested his cheek on the top of Peter's head, the quiet hum of the television and the warm body pressed into him, lulling him to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, it's short. Yes, I'm sorry. Again, I hope you enjoy this! I'm literally just trying to get something out :) Eventually, this might be edited to include more imagery and description.

Wade awakened to Peter nuzzling into his neck, seemingly at peace. Wade knew this probably wasn't the case and that they would have to talk later, but for the moment he took in the younger man's flushed cheeks and untamed hair that fell into his eyes. Wade pressed a soft kiss to Peter's head before easing his body out from under the sleeping spider. He gently lowered Peter so that he was lying down on the couch, where he immediately curled up. Wade wasn't sure what was normal for Peter and what was new. The handful of times he'd seen Peter asleep, the boy was sprawled on his stomach, arms dangling from the sides of his bed, dead to the world. But that was before. Wade had made himself scarce around Peter since Tony had died, only showing up continuously around Spider-Man. But even that was becoming more of a challenge. Peter was getting more and more anxious, throwing off his Spidey Sense, allowing him to make silly mistakes. It's was unnerving, and Wade hated how helpless he felt through it all. 

Wade let out a breath and quietly began cleaning up the leftovers, putting them in the refrigerator, setting the empty pizza boxes by the door to be taken out later. Wade's apartment wasn't huge, but big enough for Wade and even company if he ever had any. Peter had been to Wade's apartment on a few other occasions, the place usually littered with clothing, both clean and dirty, as Wade had very little knowledge in the way of organization, not to mention food, and various Lego sets he liked to mess with (he claimed it was helpful for dexterity, when in reality he was a giant child). Today was no exception, and Wade figured he'd try and tidy the place up now that his baby boy decided to show up on his doorstep, and practically into his arms, which Wade was still trying to figure out. He didn't want to cross any boundaries when it came to Peter, wanted to take things slow, if that's even what Peter really wanted. He hoped it wasn't just emotionally- filled latching on, which in Peter's case could absolutely be a thing, especially with everything he's been through. It would make sense he'd want to hold onto something, or someone. 

Just as Wade was tossing a pile of dirty (or clean) clothes in the hamper, he heard a whimpering sound coming from the living room. He paused what he was doing, listening carefully, but didn't hear the sound again. As he continued with his task of picking up in the bedroom, the sound occurred once again, this time louder and more distinct. Peter. Wade rushed into the living room to find Peter entwined in the blanket, his body twisting, almost contorting in its movements. Wade wanted nothing more than to grab Peter, shake him awake. But he refrained, instead kneeling on the floor next to the couch, brushing a hand through the unruly mop of hair, now dampened with sweat. Peter writhed under the touch, pushing against the constraints of the blanket, not understanding his surroundings. Wade moved closer. “It’s okay, baby boy, you're safe.” Peter’s brow furrowed at the new sound that enters his space. “Shhhh, It’s okay, Petey.” Wade kept combing through Peter’s hair, a soft, gentle motion, trying to calm the young superhero. He whispered close to Peter’s head, “I’m right here, Petey. It’s Wade and you’re safe.” Eventually Peter’s body stopped thrashing, his legs settling in the blankets, eyes flickering open, wide, a look of terror on his face.   
“Wade?” His voice was hoarse sounding, as if he’d spent hours yelling. “Wade?”

“I’m here, baby boy.” Wade soothed, brushing a thumb over Peter’s cheek. All at once Peter’s senses adjusted and Wade came into view fully, concerned eyes staring back into his own. Peter nearly leaped into Wade’s arms, huge, gasping sobs leaving his body. Peter’ s arms fisted Wade’s shirt, his arms woven tightly around the bigger man’s body, face buried in Wade’s shoulder.   
Wade snaked his arms around Peter’s small frame, a hand tangled in Peter’s hair, shocked at the sudden flood of emotion. “Oh, Petey.” Wade held him tightly, his heart breaking with every jolt of his body, Peter’s tears dampening his neck, leaking onto his shirt.   
“I miss him, Wade. “Peter hiccupped, his words coming in bursts, almost inaudible between the constant sobbing. “I miss him so much and he isn’t here and I don’t know how to be okay with that.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chapters have been so short.... I'm having trouble executing this at the moment. But I still felt I should post SOMETHING. Enjoy😘

Wade felt himself rocking Peter in his arms, trying his best to calm the young super, the words he had spoken tearing at his heart. “Sweetheart.” He brushed a few sweat-soaked strands of hair from Peter’s forehead. “Hey, match my breathing.” Peter tried, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Wade held him tighter, shifting his own body so he was sitting almost cross-legged on the floor, Peter in his lap. “I know, baby. Let’s just keep trying. Breathe with me.” He took one of Peter’s hands and placed it on his chest. “Breathe when I do, baby.” Wade took a deep breath, slowly inhaling, holding it a moment, before letting it out again. “There you go, sweets.” Peter tried to concentrate, calming himself down slowly, until his breaths weren’t punctuated with sobs, only shaky inhales and exhales remained. “Good, Petey, good.”

Peter felt his body start to go slack against Wade, his full weight leaning into the older man, tears still silently falling, slowly making their way down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. Wade still rocked the two of them, keeping a hand tangled in Peter’s hair, the other brushing the tears away. “Why?” Peter whispered, not bothering to wipe them away himself. “Why does everyone I love have to die, Wade?”

“I wish I had a good answer for you, baby boy, but I don’t.” Wade kept stroking Peter’s hair, feeling out of his element. Wade was really good at a lot of things, but consoling someone wasn’t at the top of the list. Sure, he’d held girlfriends or boyfriends when they’d cried over a lost pet or gotten injured, but Peter was different, his entire emotional state was different. He’d lost nearly everyone close to him and at that moment, Wade had never been more happy about the fact that he couldn’t die. “You know Pete, I’m not so good at this.” Peter leaned back enough so that he and Wade here looking eye to eye. He knew what was coming next, the same thing that Aunt May had told him over and over again the past few months. “Maybe you should talk to someone.”

“Maybe I should talk to someone.” Their voices overlapped, Wade flinching a little when Peter had some harshness to his voice. “Yeah, that’s just what May said. Go to a shrink.” Peter pulled himself out of Wade’s arms and off of his lap, slowly getting his bearings and rising to his feet. “”No, thanks.” He stood only a moment before giving up his protest, flopping down onto the couch. 

Wade draped an arm over his bent knee, a concerned sigh escaping his lips. "Peter, no one wants to watch you go through this."

"So sorry to burden everyone. " Peter reverted back to his teenager mentality, despite being twenty-two. He clenched his jaw, his emotions dueling between angry and sadness. 

Wade scooted towards Peter, kneeling on the floor next to the couch, carefully placing an arm on Peter's knee. Peter wanted so badly to push his hand off, keep in his defiance, but he craved it so much. He was so angry most of the time, and then the rest of time time all he could do was very his eyes out. Wade was solid. Peter needed solid.

"I'm angry, Wade." But the anger was all but gone now, sadness once again replacing the emotion. It was like ping pong. "I'm so angry sometimes I could burst. My heart starts racing, my breathing speeds up, it's like someone hit the fast forward button and it's stuck. I can't make it stop. But then something changes, I see a place we went together, a meal we shared at Stark Tower, hell even just putting on the suit anymore, reminds me that he won't ever be able to do that again. And I HATE myself for it." Tears came once again, Peter gritting his teeth to keep them at bay. "If I had just tried-"

Wade squeezed Peter's knee. "Oh Pete. That's not true. Tony wouldn't want you to think it was. "

"I just find myself not caring about anything anymore. I'm just not sure how much longer I can keep it up. "

"Hey, this is why May wants you to see someone, a professional who can help you talk about this, who isn't as close to it as we are."

Peter shook his head. "I don't think I can talk to a stranger about any of this, Wade."

"I get it. I know-"

"No, Wade, you don't. " Peter sniffed, looking Wade in the eye. "When I said I couldn't do it anymore, I didn't mean just with Tony….I meant I don't think I can be Spider-Man anymore. "


	6. Chapter 6

"Pete, you're upset. "

"No, it's not just that. I can't handle putting on the suit every night, knowing he's-I just can't. There are too many memories surrounding me all the time, and it's so hard to be in the everyday, but that's the one place, the one thing we both had and every time I put that suit on, and I think about that day, it's physically painful, Wade." Peter's eyes shone with new, unscheduled tears, his voice cracking. "How can I help people when everything around me is so broken?" He looked down at his hands. "When I'm broken. "

Wade climbed onto the couch next to Peter, sitting so they were hip to hip. Wade understood this demon, Wade knew broken. He felt that way most of the time, from the moment his life had transformed into the shit show it now was. The only bright spot was Peter, this incredibly sweet, compassionate, look-beyond-the-scars superhuman whom he constantly felt a need to protect. "Let me help you put the pieces back together. " Wade took one of Peter's hands that were absent-mindedly picking at the hem of his t-shirt, and slipped his hand into it, interlocking his fingers with Peter's. "When this world gets to be too much, baby boy, I will carry it for you. As long as I'm alive, your pain belongs to me. When you feel too much, I will carry it, for as long as it takes, baby boy." Wade traced his thumb over Peter's hand, watching as the tears finally spilled over, silently tracing a path down his cheeks, dripping onto their joined hands. Wade took his other hand, the one not bound to Peter, and brushed the tears from Peter's face. He left his hand there, cupping Peter's cheek. Peter leaned into the touch, closing his eyes, savoring the feel of Wade’s hand.   
“You can’t die, Wade.” Peter mumbled.  
“I know.” Wade lifted Peter’s hand and kissed his fingers. Peter opened his eyes and looked at Wade then, pausing a moment to meet the older man’s eyes before leaning in and once again finding Wade’s lips. Wade let Peter kiss him, loving the feeling of Peter’s mouth on his, but he didn’t let it last long. Peter looked disappointed when Wade pulled his lips away from Peter’s own, not bothering to hide it from Wade. “Peter, you’re hurting right now. I don’t want to take advantage of that.” Wade tried to meet Peter’s eyes again, but he could tell Peter was either too embarrassed or too upset to look up from his lap.   
“But I want to kiss you.” Peter said softly.   
“Oh, you have no idea how much I want to kiss you, baby boy.” Wade lifted Peter’s chin with his fingers, finally letting go of Peter’s hand. “But I want your heart to be ready just as much as your beautiful body, okay?”  
Peter felt himself smile, albeit a sweet, goofy, half-smile, but a smile nonetheless. “You really are very sweet Wade.”  
“Hey now, don’t go telling everyone my secrets and ruin my badass rep.” Wade smiled back, the two of them chuckling. “What do you say to a game night? I’ll make us some popcorn, pop in a movie, and we can be mindless the rest of the night.”  
“Sure.” Peter said, almost reluctantly. He really wanted to kiss Wade, wanted to feel something more than pain and anger, but maybe Wade was right and it would do more damage that good. Internally, Peter also felt worried Wade would leave him, despite him telling Peter he wouldn’t. Not in death, just decide a young, anxiety-ridden, sad sack isn’t worth it and walk away. Peter wouldn’t be surprised; it seemed most people left when things got hard or they didn’t want to feel burdened anymore. Peter couldn’t blame them. And he didn’t know when he was going to feel better. He certainly had moments of happiness, but most of the time his days were pretty cloudy. He wasn’t kidding when he told Wade he didn’t know if he could be Spider-Man anymore. He didn’t think he had it in him to be a hero, to help people. Not when he himself felt so helpless. Part of him felt if Tony couldn’t be here with him, he didn’t want to suit up at all anymore. Every time he put the suit on, he felt like something was missing, almost as if Tony was connected to the suit, and in a way, he was.   
Wade got up to make popcorn and grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge. He handed one to Peter, who rested the can on his knee, hoping the feeling might ground him, while Wade went back to grab the popcorn from the microwave. When Wade returned, he placed the popcorn on the table, along with three board games to choose from. He let Peter take his pick, flipping through the movie options. They settled on Hairspray, something Peter knew Wade would be singing along to, and Jenga, which would be challenging, yet hilarious when one of them knocked the tower down. They could be competitive, but watching Wade jump out of the way and scream like a six year old as the blocks scattered around them was always a good time.   
As the opening scene of the movie came on, Peter watched Wade as he jumped from the couch, using his fist as a microphone, and began belting the song nearly in Peter’s face. He grabbed Peter by the hand, pulling him to his feet, Good Morning Baltimore almost a serenade at this point. Wade even went as far as to spin Peter around, Peter barely able to contain his laughter as they sent Jenga blocks flying. It felt good to laugh and he savored the moment, the two of them eventually tumbling to the couch, giggles bubbling between them. “You know you’re picking those up, right?” Wade nodded at the blocks now lying in various places in the room. Peter just shook his head and threw a pillow at Wade. “Make me!” He challenged, leaping off the couch, racing around Wade’s apartment. Wade jumped over the couch, nearly catching Peter, but missing as the young super sprang into the air, dangling from the ceiling above Wade, a snarky look on his face. Wade grinned then, knowing Spider-Man wasn’t just a costume, it was in Peter’s blood. Maybe there was hope after all.


End file.
